𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐇 𖤓 - 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧.

TRÍA.

"How is your younger brother, Alistair?"

Felix queried, his fingertips drumming lightly against the side of the wine bottle he was holding.

"-He's finished primary school, yes?,"

Lyssa nodded following the question, their now mildly-intoxicated gazes reuniting - she presented herself before him a requesting demeanour, in an attempt to retrieve what she wanted from him without having to extract the added effort of using words.

Felix, who recognised this behavioural display of hers immediately as it had been a common occurrence since the first week they'd met, obeyed and passed her the almost-empty bottle.

She appraised the bottle by tilting it's glassy emerald entirety side to side, watching the unlighted, dark mixture that she called heaven in a bottle spatter within.

Wine lapped against the interior, leaving minuscule trickles and beads of ruby liquid near the neck of the bottle, which made Lyssa trace her tongue across her bottom lip.

She had concluded her interaction with the remaining liquid they'd managed to ration, lifting the bottle and pressing it against her bottom lip, craning her head backwards - the bottle following suit.

The piquant, bitter liquid seeped down her throat, staining her lips and tongue a raw crimson - as if she'd shed blood in those areas.

Once she'd wallowed in the wonders of high-calibre distilled wine that would probably - if the price was disclosed - cause an average person to go into cardiac arrest, she passed the bottle back.

"Ali isn't coping well."

She cleared her throat, reclaiming the rogue strands of her hair that had been swept up slightly by the relentless breath of the wind.

"As you can imagine, my brothers death atop the academic transition has been a lot for him."

Lyssa and Felix had been revitalising one another with the developments in which their lives had evolved while the other wasn't present, for the last fifteen minutes since Farleigh had left.

Two teenagers merely prattling with sentiment as they lost all track of time, pondering carelessly in the centre of a labyrinth - with the assistance of alcohol and nicotine to aid with their social batteries.

"So much has changed, Lyssa." Felix mumbled almost in a sense of dulled franticness, for he was content - utterly tranquil in this moment - yet, a segment of his brain was relentlessly questioning, struggling to grapple how much both their lives had changed in the given time that they were apart.

"Tell me about it." Toying with the damp moss implanted in the earth in her palm, Lyssa reminisced with all the fondness in which she could salvage on her past life - despite there not being too much to be fond of - not much to miss.

"You're more reserved."

"What do you mean?,"

"You're quiet, now." Chuckling softly, he twisted the woven array of bracelets tied to his wrist,

"You've barely spoken more than a handful of words to me at once since Farleigh brought you here."

Lyssa suspired knowingly.

She knew her replies to the Catton boy had been curt and lacking engrossingly - he had learned little to nothing about his old friend.

If he were to evaluate her personality based on the words she'd spared to him, it wouldn't result in anything particularly interesting or insightful.

Lyssa, before the tragedy, admittedly was more outspoken, more emotionally expressive - for it only took some white wine and a draw from a cigarette for her lucky company to gain a backseat into her perspectives, back then.

Felix, consequently, had been present for this side of Lyssa, and upon their depravity of each-others existence until now, he'd realised that he'd actually grown to miss it.

"I know."

"Then why aren't you saying anything else?,"

"I'm not too sure of what to say, to be honest."

"I'll be patient." He adhered, leaning back against the podium they had settled in-front of on the ground, "You'll come up with something fascinating to tell me, Lyss. You always did."

Lyssa spectated intently. His eyelids flittered closed, the back of his head now resting against the podium, his knees drawn close to his chest, arms crossed.

A white cotton tank top, trainers, and jeans were all he was sporting. Lyssa wondered on how he didn't feel the quivering chill that was the invigorating whisper of the twilight breeze.

He was comfortable in his physical state, at ease, lacking his formal, charismatic composure that suited him so well.

He looked as if he was bordering between consciousness and unconsciousness, an unreadable expression across his features that made Lyssa debate on wether prodding him would be adequate, to check that he wasn't in a slumber, or deceased.

But, he looked undoubtedly beautiful.

A teenaged interpretation of a renaissance illustration, his winged costume and his eased position against the podium could've convinced anyone that he was a fallen Angel - Lyssa was that sure.

Fallen Angels inflict visions and induce dreams, and are able to interact physically with the living.

And this made it all the more convincing that Felix could qualify as one.

Lyssa tackled a smile as she jotted a mental note regarding these visions and increased dreams upon contact, and knew that if she were to experience them, she'd know why. Or who.

"So, you're saying you're going to wait until I say something amusing?" Lyssa mused.

Her organs of sight mobile across his body, his tousled hair, his biceps, his torso that was defined through the sheer material of his vest, how well the golden finish of his wings reflected against his skin tone - effulgent in the light shed by the moon.

His chest rose and fell leisurely, unhurried breaths. Lyssa concluded that he had become more relaxed due to the wine, and even she herself was beginning to feel the drowsiness override her body also.

"Yep." He spoke softly, "I know you hate me for it, Lyss, but I knew you."

"You still know me, Fe."

"I know that there is more to know about you than you are letting on."

"What makes you so sure?," She whispered timidly back, intrigued at his pending response.

"Because if I knew everything about you, then the time we've spent apart would be non-existent."